


Ok, But First Coffee

by wingedlioness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, mentions of Outlaw Queen, vegas!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedlioness/pseuds/wingedlioness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wedding party for Mary Margaret and David's upcoming nuptials take a weekend in Vegas for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. After a fantastic night out, the girls have settled in when a rather inebriated Best Man knocks with an unexpected request for the Maid of Honour...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Accidental Wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tnlph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tnlph/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Sarah! You are the absolute sweetest. This was written in the time between getting home and needing to go to bed (so, three hours? max?) so should you desire more, your wish is my command.

“Swan! Swan, Swan, Swan.  _ Swaaaaaaan,” _ a booming voice cut through the hotel room, accompanied by offbeat thuds. “Swaaaan,  **Swan** ,  _ Swan, _ Swan,  **_Swan_ ** .”

Emma opened the door and Killian nearly fell in, arm swinging feebly where the door had been. Mary Margaret tittered from her spot on the couch, waving her champagne glass at their visitor enthusiastically. 

“Ah, the resplendent bride to be, hello!” 

He waved cheerfully back at her, making a failed attempt to lounge against the doorframe until his balance kicked back in. He stuck his tongue in his cheek as his attention wandered over to Emma. She was just drunk enough that she didn't see the point in feigning indignation at how he took his time checking her out. Thankfully, she was sober enough to appreciate how his inability to button a shirt properly carried over to a three piece suit; apparently Killian hadn’t been kidding about going all out for David’s bachelor party trip. She smiled smugly as his eyes finally met hers. 

“And the ever exquisite Swan.”

“Does your presence mean that my brother is safely returned to your suite? Or are you here to tell me that he bet more than he could afford to the wrong guy?”

He clutched at his chest dramatically. “You wound me! I would never allow that.”

She moved so he could stumble inside. 

“Oh no wait. I might’ve. No. Maybe. I don’t think I exacted a price from him.”

“Wait, what?” She grabbed his arm incredulously. “ _ You  _ bet against him right before his -”

He cut her off quickly, “no, no, love. ‘S alright. ‘S a bet of gentlemen, not a game of chance.”

Emma scoffed. “Right, ‘gentlemen.’”

“You’re right. A true gentleman wouldn’t extort fun out of his best friend’s unrequited love.” 

The hand she had unconsciously left on his wrist stiffened as his covered hers gently. She gulped nervously and glanced over at Mary Margaret, obliviously snuggling further into the throw she brought from home.

“Emma?” His quiet tone brought her gaze back instantly. “I have to tell you something.”

She managed a stuttered, “yeah?” as he brought her hand up to his mouth. Drunk Killian evidently had an untapped talent for torture as he kept his eyes locked to hers and brushed his lips reverently across her knuckles. 

“Your brother’s a cad.”

She blinked, thrown off. 

“There, I said it!”

He dropped her hand and spun around to the couch. “My dearest Mary Margaret, you do not deserve such a louse.” 

Her best friend nodded sagely at him before catching herself and shaking her head emphatically. Killian turned back to Emma, stalking over to her. She backed up as he approached until she was up against the wall.

“Did you know, did you know Swan, he bet me to tell you of my feelings? Of the depth of my love and desire for you? As if there are such words. As if those things are measurable, describable,  _ finite _ .”

His arm and hand were braced on either side of her, effectively caging her in. Her heart was beating wildly and if she weren’t certain that she was decidedly more sober than at the beginning of their exchange, she could easily explain the spinning room. 

“Words, he thinks one uses words.” Killian hung his head despairingly on Emma’s shoulder, the lost eye contact helping her regain her mental feet.

“Right, because you hate words. Quiet as a mouse, that’s you.”

“Hush, Swan. You’re interrupting.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped and grew into full laughter as she caught Ruby’s confused stare when she emerged from her room. Mary Margaret pulled the woman down on the couch beside her, shushing her. Emma rolled her eyes at their tipsy audience. 

“Words, words are just words, aren’t they? Anyone can words. Annnnnyone at all. But, but action. Action is true.”

She wished she could claim he wasn’t making sense but she knew exactly what he meant. Both of them put far more stock in someone’s deed than in the speeches they gave. Emma still didn’t know everything he had been through before moving to their sleepy town a couple of years prior but she recognized a kindred spirit. 

“I show you every day, Emma. In all our looks, in lunches I drop off because I ‘happen’ by Granny’s, in the coffee I bring when you’ve wrecked the monstrosities you lot have the nerve to call computers at the station again. But you know that already, don’t you?”

Maybe it was just his breath hitting her collarbone with each enunciation, or the smell of his cologne overpowering the eau de Las Vegas clinging to his suit, but she found herself nodding, fingers reaching out for the lapels of his jacket. Two years of innuendos, of energizing banter, and increasingly more frequent quiet talks made denial impossible. 

He pulled back slowly and caressed his fingertips along her shoulder, dropping his other arm. 

“True romance is in action, don’t you think?” 

Emma’s lips twitched as the blush grew on her cheeks. He waggled his eyebrows at her cheekily. Abruptly, he fell to one knee and placed her hand gallantly on his forearm, reclaiming his hand to rummage in his pockets. 

Twin gasps rang out from the other side of the room. Emma froze. There was no way that man she had been fighting feelings for was…

“Aha!” Killian yelled victoriously. “So, my darling, dearest Emma. The love I don’t deserve, the woman I most admire, the keeper of my heart. Marry me, most beloved Swan.”

Emma stared at his eager blue eyes for a long moment. His smile brightened the entire suite. The alcohol he imbibed must’ve been something really special; he didn’t waver nor flag as the moment stretched out. She took a long look around the room, noting with relief that her friends were actually still breathing. A melodramatic, cocky, gorgeous man with the biggest heart she’d ever known knelt before her holding out what she was pretty sure was his last memento of his mother and -

“What the hell. Yeah. Let’s do it.”

She squeaked as he swooped her up into his arms and twirled her around before unsteadily putting her down to place the ring on her finger. 

“Good thing I keep this on me any time I travel, eh, Swan?”

She leaned into his chest, laughing too hard to do more than shake her head at him. 

“No time to rest, let’s go!”

He threaded his fingers through hers, and tugged her to the door. 

“Farewell ladies, don’t stay up!”

“Byeeee,” the girls chorused back before erupting into giggles. 

“Uh, Killian? Where are we going? We’re not leaving the hotel, right? I’m wearing slippers.” 

Emma hastened her steps to keep up with Killian’s long strides. She’s pretty sure he was exhibiting the textbook example of “bounding” and was increasingly grateful that she could no longer feel the tequila in her system. 

“Of course not! There’s a chapel just outside the casino entrance.”

“Cha- Killian, now? You want to get married  _ now _ ?”

“Swan, I’ve wanted to marry you since you erroneously arrested me for trespassing the day Granny had me install her new registers. Now that you’ve agreed, I’m not waiting a moment longer. ‘Sides, it’d be such a waste of Vegas to wait, no? No better way to prove I’ve gone native!”

Emma gaped as he dragged them to the elevators. He pulled her into an exuberant embrace as they began their descent. 

“So the fact that I’m in my yoga pants and ‘ok, but first coffee’ tank doesn’t matter?”

“Mmm.” He buried his head in her hair, holding her tighter. “Radiant. That’s what you are.”

“Killian...did you even hear me?”

She gave in to the cuddles. Emma was used to stubbornness from him but this was a whole new level. She was sure she had never seen him so plastered. She made a mental note to have the others check in on David and Robin as soon as they could. His very willing body pressed along hers slowly made her aware that his confession and proposal implied permission to explore the electric chemistry they’d always had...just as the doors dinged open. She had enough time for a sigh before his warmth lifted from around her and he whirled them down the hall. 

***

Their Las Vegas wedding was a cacophony of lights and laughter and champagne. It was all a blur until Killian turned to her and brought their lips together. Even as they escaped back to his room, her mind relived that moment of perfection: his fingers caressing her chin so gently, his arm sliding down her spine, her hands threading through his hair, lips stoking the flames between them.

***

True morning came, easing Emma out of an exhausted sleep as the rays moved across her pillow. She stretched slightly, her hand movement causing the sunlight to dance around the room. She brought her new accessory back into the light, taking the tranquility of the moment to admire her ring,  _ her  _ ring. The warm body at her back drew closer and Killian nuzzled her shoulder. She leaned back; his bare skin on hers managing to ignite the fire they had attempted to quench more than a few times over night. 

“Had the most wonderful dream, Swan.”

“Yeah?” She spoke quietly, trying to match his sleep-filled tone.

“Dreamt you married me.”

“Huh, well that sounds nice.”

Emma chuckled softly as he buried his face at her neck. 

“T’was. This one’s nearly as good.”

“Only nearly?”

“Aye. Me head’s pounding something fierce.”

Emma stilled as his words trailed off. 

“Pain, not a thing in dreams, aye?”

“Nope,” she replied, a grin creeping back on her face.

“Oh.”

She waited.

“ **_Oh_ ** .”

Emma rolled over to face him. His brows furrowed, Killian looked at her incredulously.

“You mean you, I, you, we?”

“Yeah.”

Emma’s heart swelled as he beamed back at her. 

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

He surged forward and captured her lips again. She laughed into his ministrations, more than happy to encourage his explorations.

“You do realize that David and Mary Margaret are going to kill us for getting married before them, right?”

“They can do so after I’ve had you again, love.”

"And coffee. I want coffee first too," she managed before his actions put their impending doom far from thought.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma faces the day after her and Killian's "accidental" marriage.

Emma stirred, surrounded by an intoxicating warmth. The firm body pressed along hers was making it exceedingly difficult to move. She stared at the hand intertwined with her own, callused fingers fitting besides hers perfectly. A ring glinted in the morning sun; that must’ve been what woke her. She detangled her hand to examine the sapphire more closely but Killian's wrist tightened around her waist. She sighed as her body automatically pushed back in response, attempting to get as close as possible. 

 

_ ~Two years ago~ _

_ Emma shivered and took a moment to readjust the beanie on her head. She was not entirely convinced that their tiny town needed night patrols, but the town board had decided otherwise so here she was. Stuck wandering Main Street of a place that called her at all hours anyway because the raccoons were too noisy or ‘those darn kids’ were playing their music or whatever other ridiculous reason they concocted. A yawn snuck out and she made the executive decision to detour to Granny’s. The diner may have been closed but she reasoned that if Ruby never meant for her to break in after hours and make herself a hot chocolate, she wouldn't have shown her how to use their machines. That and Emma could see most of “downtown” from the window, it's not like she'd be betraying the public trust.  _

_ She rounded the ice cream parlor’s storefront only to see light coming up from under the counter in Granny’s. As a shadowy figure ducked down near the register, Emma unholstered her gun and hurried along under the darkness the awnings provided.  _

_ There looked to be only one intruder and she couldn't see any sort of getaway car. The thief was probably counting on completing their task unnoticed instead of a quick exit. Emma reached the courtyard and crouched beneath the window. She took a deep breath and kicked open the door, throwing the lights on. _

_ “Hands where I can see ‘em!” _

_ A loud thwack sounded from the counter as the figure underneath jerked up.  _

_ “Ow! Bloody hell! What- “ _

_ “I said, hands where I can see them. Nice and slow.” _

_ “Ah, then we have a problem, love.” _

_ Emma tensed as the (English?) man got to his feet, arms cautiously rising beside him. _

_ “Apologies lass, but I'm afraid this is the best I can do.” _

_ She tore her gaze from his rueful grin and playful blue eyes to see his motioning towards a wrist obviously missing its hand.  _

_ “Oh.” She blinked furiously.  _

 

Emma toyed with the scars on his arm, gently caressing his wrist. Considering the amount of sleep she’d had (not much) and the amount of alcohol ingested the day before (she did not want to see her credit card bill), she was remarkably alert. Killian had dozed off again after recreating the fuzzy bits of their post-wedding celebration… oh hell. Wedding. Sure, she knew it happened, that's what the ring meant after all, but... **_married_ ** . Henry was going to kill her. Mary Margaret was going to kill her. David was definitely going to kill  _ him _ . Well, crap. She was tempted to pretend nothing had changed but judging by their last round, Killian was definitely sober. That and pretending would mean not getting to enjoy the full range of his talents again. And oh was this man talented. This man. Her husband. Damn it.

Emma slid cautiously from under his arm, gently laying the blanket back over his bare chest. As much as she longed to stay and enjoy the view, she needed to get dressed and figure out how the hell she wound up married. With a last glance at her new husband, she snuck cautiously through the suite’s common area. David looked to be passed out on the couch still, thankfully, and she made it out unnoticed. She slumped back against the door as the click echoed down the sleeping hallway. The panic Killian’s presence had kept at bay was now threatening to rear its head. To go from arresting him, to reluctant acquaintances, to the person who understood her best in the world, to her  _ spouse _ … 

 

_ Emma slammed the cell shut behind him.  _

_ “Aren't you supposed to ‘process’ me, love? You haven't even asked my name yet.”  _

_ She gritted her teeth as Tall, Dark, and Obnoxious leaned against the bars.  _

_ “You sure you don't want the phone call?” _

_ “And disturb someone at this hour? Perish the thought.” His tongue flitted out along his lip and she couldn't help following the movement. “Never mind that it would deprive me of your scintillating company, Sheriff Swan.” _

_ “Fine. Then in the morning you can tell me your name and how you know mine.” _

_ She grinned widely at him before turning on her heel and heading to the door. He stiffened as her pace quickened. _

_ “Wait, you can't leave me here, Swan. Swan!” _

_ Emma allowed herself a victorious fist pump as she locked the station behind her. Now that was how to get the last word. And she even had a few hours of sleep she could grab before getting Henry off to school. With any luck Granny would be so thankful she stopped the attempted robbery that she’d get some sort token of gratitude. The guilty pang she felt over leaving the overly attractive criminal in her jail cell was quickly overcome with thoughts of Granny’s bear claws. _

 

Killian rolled over. The bed was significantly cooler than he expected. As his eyelashes fluttered against his attempts to open his eyes, he could already tell that Emma’s side of the bed of was empty. He was about to question his memories when he spied her tank top hiding under the armchair. A melancholy smile graced his features as he stretched back out on the bed. He should've known better than to expect Emma to do anything but run, even if only temporarily. While the wedding itself was a bit of a drunken blur, his decision had been entirely sober. And whether she would admit it right away, hers was too. He seemed to recall the stern looking officiant insisting upon a breathalyzer, one she must've passed because he knew there's no way he would've. He never expected a Vegas wedding service to care about that sort of thing. Oh,  _ right,  _ speaking of permission… Killian scrambled for his phone. 

 

_ ~A few months ago~ _

_ “So, when you gonna ask my mom out?” _

_ Killian gulped down the painfully hot coffee in his attempt to not sputter it everywhere. Henry stared at him relentlessly even while he abandoned his coffee for ice water.  _

_ “Lad, you know how-” he sighed. “She certainly knows how I feel, and if she makes no move to alter our relationship, I have to assume her wish remains the same.” _

_ Henry raised an eyebrow at him in a strangely familiar way. Before he could place it, the boy leaned back as menacingly as possible.  _

_ “What happened to a ‘man who fights for what he wants gets what he deserves?’” _

_ He felt his jaw clench at hearing his own advice parroted back at him by a young man that had wormed his way into his heart. Henry certainly knew how to hit a man where it hurt.  _

_ “Indeed, lad. But there’s also a thing called consent. And that surmounts any possible action on my part.” _

_ “Whatever.” Henry slid out of the booth. “When you finally realize that she’s giving you doey eyes every time you look away, text me. I just want a warning before I need to be knocking to enter my own house.” _

_ Killian gaped as Henry walked away; the surreptitious fist pumping as he left Granny’s caused Killian to grin widely. Like mother like son. _

 

His phone lit with a series of texts as he hit the home button. Killian closed his eyes and unlocked it by memory. He might as well do it right and start at the beginning of the thread.

**KJ: HEnry, your uncle is the most sincerecstt of wankers andI shall be asking for your mother’s hand forthwith.**

**KJ: You know she’s the love of my life? She’s the light in my eyes and the song in my soul. Words cant do it justice. sO proposing. it is**

**KJ: yOu’ve been right, lad. All along. I saw her smile tonight. All the way across a room. And I knew. I can’t wait any longer.**

**KJ: Should she accept ym hand you need to nkow that I will never ask for more than what we have. Your friendship is a gift I do not take lightly.**

**KJ: ThTBbwisgfnl..**

Killian ran his face over his eyes. He always knew one day he’d rue shutting off autocorrect but never did he imagine it’d be for this…

Cringing, he picked up the phone again, bracing himself for Henry’s replies.

**HS: Are you drunk? Killian? What the hell? And do you not know how to use autocorrect? Seriously.**

**HS: Killian?**

**HS: DUDE**

**HS: Did you just go propose to my mom?**

**HS: While DRUNK?**

**HS: She’s going to kill you.**

**HS: KILLIAN ANSWER ME**

**HS: …**

**HS: Did she say yes?**

**HS: I NEED TO KNOW THESE THINGS**

**HS: ARE YOU GOING TO BE MY STEP DAD?**

**HS: IS THIS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE OR DID MOM CRUSH YOUR HEART?**

**HS: I NEED TO KNOW**

**HS: Granny just yelled at me to go to bed.**

**HS: I may have screamed angrily just a little because YOU WON’T ANSWER ME**

**HS: If it wasn’t 4am I would so be calling you right now.**

**HS: But Granny has wolf hearing, I swear. And I don’t think she’d stop at yelling this time.**

**HS: Dude, you’ve put my DS in jeopardy.**

**HS: ...**

**HS: If I don’t have an answer before I wake up, I am flying there and making you pay for it. AND making you explain to Granny when she figures out I’m missing.**

Well, shit. Killian glanced at the time stamp, last text was only seven hours previous so he reasoned he still had another couple before Henry could try and make good on his threat. Thank goodness for teenagers and their need for sleep. While he did owe the lad an explanation (and to be honest, should the marriage stick, he owed him a bloody PlayStation 4), it was hard to give one without speaking with Swan first. He shot off a quick response as he eased out of bed. His muscles were delightfully achey in a way that had nothing to do with the casino crawl the night before.

**KJ: sincerest apologies, Henry. She said yes but it's currently a little complicated. I shall have full answers for you by early evening so should you speak with your mother, please be kind. I promise I'll call you before dinner.**

Killian tossed the phone back on the bed to search for clothes. He noticed quickly that his shirt from the night before was missing. His wife (his  _ wife _ , oh he was never going to tire of that…as long as Swan had no regrets) must've stolen it when she couldn't find her own. The sudden image of Emma in his shirt did nothing to help his trousers go on smoothly. Cursing softly, he managed to wrangle them up over his hips and reached for his prosthesis. As he strapped it into place, Emma’s tank caught his eye again. If she was going to wear his clothes, it was only proper he returned the favour, right? He grabbed a black button down and chuckled mischievously as he retrieved the tank top. That's what marriage was all about, right? Sharing all worldly possessions as well as a life? He shot himself a grin in the mirror as he surveyed his reflection. The tank was a bit snug, but under the open shirt none would be the wiser. Given that it was Emma’s favourite shirt, Killian felt it damn well guaranteed that she'd be unable to ignore him.  And, he had to admit, he did look rather devilishly handsome in it. 

 

_ ~Two years ago~ _

_ Emma woke in a grumble. She had been excited about being able to get any sleep and ended up plagued by intense blue eyes every time hers shut instead. It wasn’t fair. The man was a criminal. At this point she was seriously concerned that she did have a type. A horrible type.  _

_ As she shuffled out to the kitchen, her surprisingly awake pre-teen whirled around her, kissed her on the cheek, and ran out the door. Oops. So much for getting up on time to get him to school. She stared despondently at the coffee maker devoid of water and grinds before grabbing her jacket and heading out the door herself. Hopefully Granny’s gratitude would include copious amounts of caffeine and sugar.  _

_ The moment she stepped in the diner she knew something was wrong. Ruby was racing around the diner, nothing new since she often helped out busy mornings, but Granny was cursing up a storm on the phone.  _

_ Emma sent Ruby a questioning nod as her friend strode past and she shook her head in response.  _

_ “Trust me, Em. You really don’t wanna know.” _

_ She edged towards the counter anyway, spying the tools the thief in her cell must’ve had hidden away tucked into a corner, a prosthetic hand and some sort of hook placed on top of the bag. She made a note to retrieve those as evidence and for safe keeping until his release (or trial, if Granny decided to press charges). _

_ “Of course he's not answering his phone, I just told you he left it here!” _

_ Emma winced at Granny’s shriek. _

_ “He left his tools all over the place too, and the new register isn’t even set up! All the cords are hanging down willy-nilly. I’m just lucky he didn’t unhook the old register too!” _

_ Emma felt a cold dread replacing the hunger in her stomach. She was starting to get a bad feeling… _

_ “Well I don’t care what you have to do, he’s your ‘mate’, Robin Locksley, you find him and get him back here!” Granny slammed down the phone before acknowledging Emma. _

_ “Sorry, dear. Ruby’s been on me to upgrade our system and wouldn’t you know I finally cave and that new computer guy takes off on some sort of sabbatical right in the middle of the job.” _

_ “New computer guy?” Emma managed to choke out. _

_ Granny eyed her curiously. “Oh you must’ve seen him. Tall, dark, gorgeous, blue eyes that’ll make a person forget their own name. Just opened up shop next to the ice cream parlor. Everyone had been speaking so highly of him I just assumed- “she sighed. “That’s what I get for trusting my granddaughter.” _

_ “Tsk, I’m pretty sure it was the picture of him in his Navy uniform on his desk that sold you, Granny.” Ruby whisked by in time to stick her tongue out at the older woman. “You always did love a man in uniform.” _

_ Granny’s eyes grew wistful. “You can’t go wrong with formal wear on a man like that. Anyway, Emma,” she snapped back to the present. “What can I get you?” _

_ Emma felt all of her righteous pride from night’s encounter shrivel into a very heavy ball of shame. _

_ “Uh. I’m...good, actually. I just forgot I have something to take care of at the station.”  _

_ She backed away from Granny’s curious gaze and nearly fled the moment she was out of sight of the diner. Shit shit shit.  _

 

Emma let her keycard fall into the slot, the answering click was far too loud for her liking. She crept into the hallway, kicking off her slippers. The dress shirt rustled as she turned to latch the door and she cursed herself for not taking the time to find her damn own shirt (no matter how good his smelled...really, it was an amateur move). Before she could continue her (hopefully secret) walk of shame, a hand reached out holding a mug. Mary Margaret had a smile dancing across her face as she waved the coffee by Emma’s nose. 

“If that’s not for me, we’re no longer friends.”

“Oh, it’s for you.” 

Mary Margaret sounded far more chipper than Emma expected for a woman that had done tequila shots with a burlesque dancer the night before. Honestly though, she could care less, the coffee was steaming and smelled more heavenly than she expected hotel grade to. She reached for the mug only to have it pulled back out of reach. 

“Wha- “

Mary Margaret smirked. “It’s for you,  _ if _ you tell me what the heck happened last night.”

“You mean, what _ finally  _ happened last night!”

Emma groaned. Of course Ruby was up already too. Why couldn’t they both be passed out like the boys? 

“Shouldn’t you be off skyping with your girlfriend?”

“Uh, hell no. She says hi and told me not to call her back until I got all the details.” Ruby shot her a toothy grin and patted the stool beside her. “So come on. Spill.”

“UGH. Coffee first.” 

Mary Margaret eyed her apparel as Emma grabbed the mug out of her hands and sat down. 

“Speaking of, Emma, where’s your shirt?”

Emma shut her eyes even as the blush crept up her cheeks. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind that,” Ruby laughed. “How about these?” 

She pulled the collar aside to expose Emma’s neck and a couple of lovely...marks. Emma grimaced, eyes still screwed shut. She hadn’t bothered to check a mirror in her haste and was now regretting having left Killian’s bed even more. At least there no one would be judging her for her attire or evidence of a night well spent. Hell, she could be trying out a few things on him right now. She never got a chance to explore his reaction to that spot right above the collarbone…

“Earth to Emma!”

Mary Margaret was glaring at her while Ruby hid her giggles in her own mug. She sighed dramatically at Emma’s mumbled apology and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. The women gave Emma a momentary reprieve as she downed her coffee like a lifeline. The anticipatory quiet was broken by a knocking at the door. The two others looked at Emma expectantly. She shook her head as she went to the door, both of them craning in their spots to ensure they could see the door.

The hotel steward on the other side gave her a sincere smile along with his “congratulations!” as he handed her a package and left. 

“Ooh, mysterious package trumps interrogation, let’s see it!” Ruby said.

Emma made her way to the closest chair, her eyes glued to the label.

Emma Swan 

Room 311

Wedding of Emma Swan and Killian Jones

Premium Package

She could feel the stunned silence emanating from the others. She tore the envelope, gently removing the small stack of photos and CD from within. Placing the disc aside, she spread the pictures out on the coffee table. Ruby whistled softly while Mary Margaret sat across from her to peruse the photos. Some employee helping put a veil in her ponytail. Another handing her a small bouquet. Killian grinning unabashedly at her, his eyes sparkling in the lights. Her returning smile, wider than she’d ever seen. A close up of their hands clasped in front of the officiant.

Emma cleared her throat awkwardly. “Don’t panic, but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…” 

“Emma, we were there. And _ I  _ was not as drunk as you probably wish I was. There was nothing accidental about his having a ring on him and getting down on one knee.” Mary Margaret sipped her water carefully. “Now the question is, are  _ you _ panicking?”

Emma looked down to her newly adorned finger. She glanced over to a picture of a disheveled, dashing groom in an expensive suit passionately embracing a tank top, yoga pants-wearing bride with a lopsided veil in her ponytail.

“No.” She stood up abruptly. “I’m not. Why aren’t I? This is nuts, right? I mean, people don’t just...get married. They, they date. And they kiss. And they do all that stuff before just getting married.” 

She buried her face in her hands as she slumped back into her seat. 

“Why doesn’t this feel wrong?”

“Oh it is,” Ruby chimed in.

Mary Margaret shot her a look but Ruby waved her off.

“It is wrong, because _ we weren’t there _ .” Ruby pointed accusingly at her. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. And it’s not like that was my choice anyway. I didn’t expect him to drag me down to the chapel right then and there!”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret cut in lightly. “Maybe it's because you have been dating for almost two years?”

She scoffed. “No we haven’t.”

“Uh, yeah, you have.”

“No, we definitely have not been dating.”

Ruby placed a conciliatory hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s been a while but, movie nights, lunch ‘meet-ups’, outings with you and Henry, that’s what the rest of us call ‘dating.’ The poor bastard even helped you with paperwork on occasion and if that’s not the mark of a smitten, whipped boyfriend, I don’t know what is.”

Mary Margaret nodded along as Emma listened helplessly. 

She tried one last volley. “But, we couldn’t stand each other at first.”

“Oh, you mean when you wrongfully arrested him? And were pissed because you were super embarrassed and then avoided him like the plague? Is that when you’re talking about?”

Emma grimaced as Mary Margaret let loose. She supposed she kind of deserved that. 

 

_ Emma stormed into the station, the slamming door causing the man in her cell to groan loudly.  _

_ “Not only do you take me from my job, and subsequently my warm bed, but you deny me rest on this atrocity you call a cot?” He grumbled.  
_

_ She stalked over as he rose wearily to his feet, stretching languidly. She took a moment to hold back a gulp as his shirt raised off his stomach (purposely, no doubt).  _

_ “Why didn’t you tell me you were there fixing Granny’s registers?” _

_ He raised an eyebrow. “And you would’ve believed me, Sheriff? You seemed awfully keen on catching a bad guy last night.” _

_ Her mouth twitched as she tried to keep the wave of shame from crossing her face. She could tell he noticed anyway, his eyes crinkling as he smirked at her.  _

_ “Surely you explained the unfortunate situation to the dear Widow Lucas? No doubt she was forgiving due to your zealousness in the line of duty?” _

_ She bit her lip guiltily.  _

_ “You didn't, did you?” He let out a raucous laugh. “Oh Swan, you had gone in there expecting gratitude, hadn't you? Perhaps in the form of delectable pastries? Only to discover that the miscreant you apprehended was performing a vital service for our esteemed diner owner.” _

_ “Don't think you know me.” Emma crossed her arms menacingly, rattled that he managed to guess so well. _

_ “Oh but I do, love. It's written all over your face. In those flushed cheeks and the way you chew your lip-”  _

_ “Do you ever shut up?”  _

_ Emma marched over to his cell and unceremoniously unlocked it. She pulled it open, causing him to stumble out of the artful pose he had adopted against the door. The break from his unrelenting smoulder allowed her to regain some of the footing she had lost. _

_ “It seems this was all a misunderstanding sir, you're free to go. Storybrooke PD apologies for the inconvenience and thanks you for your understanding.”  _

_ She smiled sweetly at him as he stepped out of the cell. She held her breath as he leaned into her space, intent on not reacting to his proximity. Before he could say anything, David's voice cut through the station. _

_ “Hey Emma, it seems we have a missing person- oh hey, Killian! There you are. Man, Robin just called and Granny’s been on him to find you. Where were you?” _

_ His eyes flitted back and forth between the two standing by the open cell.  _

_ “Wait...Emma, did you arrest him? What the hell’s going on?” _

_ “Nothing!” She threw a hand up, cutting off Killian’s response. “It was a mix-up, that’s all, end of story.” _

_ Killian winked at her as he turned to David. “Aye, mate, no story at all. Don’t suppose you could spare a moment for a man in need? I’m sure the Widow Lucas would greatly appreciate my swift return to duty.” _

_ He bowed low to Emma, managed to catch her hand in his to bring it to his lips before winking again, and heading to the door. David shot her ‘you have a lot of explaining to do’ glare before following the other man back out to his car.  _

_ When she realized she was gripping the hand his lips touched tightly to her chest, she released it quickly and grabbed her keys. Screw it, David could handle manning the station. She was going home to crawl into bed and never show her face again.  _

 

Killian hummed as the coffee machine gurgled away. Normally he’d be a bit more considerate to the hungover man on the couch but with their brunch date with the women inching closer, it was in everyone’s best interest that he at least attempt to wake the others. If he did so with a bit of malicious glee, well who could blame him. He sniffed longingly as the water began to pour through the grinds. 

“It’s really disturbing the way you do that,” a voice croaked from the other side of the couch. 

“Do what, mate? Enjoy the anticipation of the first sip of caffeine?”

“Ugh, sniff it like that. It’s just creepy.” 

Killian laughed as David pushed himself upright. 

“Please tell me we are not drinking today.” David buried his face in his hands. “Please tell me we are never drinking again.”

Killian went over to clap the man on the back as another door opened. Robin emerged looking remarkably more awake than the groom-to-be attempting to be one with the sofa. The guilt that shot through Killian at the memory of last night caused his patting to be much gentler than originally intended. 

“If you had tried using your bed instead of the couch, I believe that could’ve made a world of difference.” Robin said cheerfully. “I feel positively refreshed.”

David just moaned again.

Killian smiled sympathetically. “Not to worry, Dave. Plans for today are brunch with the ladies since you and yours can’t be separated for more than a few hours at a time; then we’re off to a shooting range so you and Rob can decide once and for all who the better shot is.”

“Emma’s not going, right?” Robin asked quickly, obvious concerned laced through the question.

Killian chuckled. “I believe she and the other women will be safely away in a luxury spa.”

Both men let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. He couldn’t help his heart swelling with pride. Not every man could claim their partner was a feared marksman. 

He fed David caffeine as Robin teased him gently. He was grateful they both seemed distracted enough to not notice his own inattention. Until David had ingested enough water and coffee to regain a bit of humanity.

“Hey...isn’t that Emma’s shirt?”

Killian was pulled from a lovely reverie of Emma’s deft fingers to see the others looking pointedly at his chest. 

He avoided their stares, plucking at the shirt. “You know, I thought it looked familiar. And I was wondering why it seemed a mite snug. I just thought those excursions to the gym were paying off. How very odd.” 

He tried to infuse his tone with enough bewilderment to cover the smug sarcasm but Robin’s eyes narrowed further. 

“As I hear Regina tell it, she’s worn that to official meetings. Much to Regina’s chagrin.” 

David paused thoughtfully. “Yeah, actually. I don’t think she’s let it out of her sight since you gave it to her for her birthday last year.”

Killian tried hard to not deflect to his usual swagger, he had a feeling that a hungover Dave wouldn’t take any perceived boasting well. “Well I don't know what to say- ah, perhaps that's her now to reclaim it.” 

He bounded gratefully to the door and swung it open before their guest could even knock thrice. “Our dearest ladies!” Killian exclaimed loudly, just to make David cover his ears futilely. “Lady Swan, radiant as always. Mary Margaret, Ruby, welcome to our humble abode.”

David straightened up immediately as his fiance entered the room. Ruby and Robin exchanged smiles as Mary Margaret beelined for David’s arms. Killian couldn’t help the wistful sigh as he watched them, before realizing Emma had never fully entered the suite.

“Are you here for your prized possession, Swan?” 

 

Emma felt her mouth go dry when Killian answered the door. She was still wearing his shirt over a clean tank top, hoping to get a rise out of him but then he opened the door and… Wow. Now she understood why men wanted women to wear their clothing. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good in her favourite top. She finally realized he asked her a question as the tease in his eyes softened to concern. Prized possession? Oh, OH, the shirt. Not him. Although…

“Yes, yes I am, actually.”

She held his gaze defiantly, and grabbed for his hand. 

“We’ll meet you guys downstairs,” she called to the others. 

She could hear a little laughter and significantly more giggles as she dragged Killian across the hall. 

“If I had known you were this attached to the shirt, Swan, I would’ve stolen it ages ago.”

Emma only shook her head and pulled him into her room. 

“So should I start stripping now or did you want the honours?” Killian leered at her, swaying into her space.

“Actually,” she started, “I thought you might want to see the wedding photos.”

“The- “ Killian went blank as she pulled him to the couch.

She gently pushed him down, nervously watching him for the slightest reaction. He gripped her hand tighter and pulled her beside him. As he looked wonderingly at her, she was amazed and annoyed that she had never noticed the love radiating off him before. They could’ve been spared a lot of longing and gotten laid a hell of a lot more if she had only noticed earlier. She coughed restlessly as he continued to stare at her, not even glancing at the pictures. 

“Um, so, don’t you want to see- “

“Emma?” His voice caressed her ears softer than his gaze. “You’re ok with this, truly?”

Tears sprang to her eyes as his fingers slid to her jaw, but she wasn’t about to let him gain the upper hand. 

“Yeah, pretty sure I proved that last night. Of course  _ someone _ was really drunk so I don’t know if  _ he _ meant it but- “

Before she could try to keep taunting him, he surged forward to capture her top lip between his own. As he pulled her beneath him, she let her fingers tangle in his hair and tug him even closer. The pictures could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do intend to do one more chapter of the aftermath involving Henry and the boys. I have very little free time so I can't guarantee when it'll happen, but it should!


End file.
